


Locker Room

by curiumKingyo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Markus, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Human AU, Locker Room, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scenting, Top Simon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 05:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16152674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: Simon meets Markus in the locker room after football practice and they both get what they want.





	Locker Room

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!  
> I've just opened a [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/O5O8K6GJ#) so if you like my works please consider getting me a ko-fi and getting a fic tailor-made for you!
> 
> This fic is a gift for [Ky-rosh](https://twitter.com/ky_rosh), amazing artist and musk enthusiast on Twitter!

Simon deserves a prize. He really does.

Resisting Markus’ natural charm is already a hard task, made even more difficult by the fact that they are dating and therefore Markus feels very free to tease and provoke Simon at any given moment. Too long stares, hands that remain on his waist a little too long, the slide of worn shoes up and down Simon’s calf under the cafeteria table. North and Josh consider Simon something very close to a saint simply because he manages to stay decent in his boyfriend’s company.

Right now, Simon is working on his saint status with much more fervor than ever. At this point he isn’t even a saint anymore, martyr would be a better description. Football practice has just ended and Markus is smiling wide and happy, sweat dripping down the side of his face and into the neck of his shirt. He looks glorious, the corners of his eyes crinkling and a blush coloring his cheeks after all the physical activity.

The rest of the team is still around Markus, debating strategies and commenting on their best plays and Markus is happily giving them his attention. _Natural born leader_ , Simon thinks with a mix of pride and annoyance. He wants Markus only to himself, but, as a saint, he shares this blessing with all.

Markus finally sees him and a spark lights in his eyes. He waves at him and Simon waves back, coyly, which makes Markus’ smile grow bigger. Simon can’t hear Markus but it is clear he is saying his goodbyes to his teammates. He points to the locker room and Simon nods before going down the bleachers and finding his way to the place Markus usually keeps his bag in.

The locker room is always a little hot, the windows always closed and the boiler running almost non-stop transform the room in a veritable greenhouse. Simon steps in quietly, closes the door behind his heels. He can’t hear any sounds, no chatter of excited players, no water running, not even the slow rustling of clothes being moved around on duffle bags.

“Markus?” Simon calls, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

No response. Simon wonders if he had mistaken Markus’ message. He crosses the lockers area and circles the wall that leads to the showers. The moment he passes by the tiled wall his vision swims as he is quickly grabbed and pushed against the wall. A yelp leaves his lips as his back hits the wall.

“Took you long enough,” Markus whispers in the crook of his neck as he bodily presses Simon against the wall.

Simon’s shock dissipates as soon as he hears Markus’ voice so close to his ear. It sends shivers down his neck and spine, and Simon takes a deep, relieved, breath.

It turns out to be a mistake.

Simon is assaulted by Markus’ scent. The smell of his sweat, of the broken blades of grass trapped on the folds of his uniform, and the sharp mint smell of a salonpas band. The combination goes directly to Simon’s dick and he moans a little, to Markus’ utter delight. Markus’ arms are leaning against the wall, one on each side of Simon’s face, his legs wide apart to accommodate Simon between them.

Markus surges forward and his eyes meet Simon’s for a second. Simon is already blushing, his pale skin betraying his excitement quite easily. Markus eats him with his eyes before leaning down and kissing Simon, hungry and demanding.

Simon repays him in the same way, he sucks Markus’ tongue into his mouth and grabs his sweaty shirt into tight fists. Markus rolls his hips against Simon’s leg, his half erection impossible to deny or ignore.

“What about the other guys?” Simon asks, a little out of breath, between smaller kisses.

“I convinced the coach to have them running some extra laps around the field,” Markus’ reply is as breathless as Simon’s question. “We have a few minutes.”

A shiver runs down Simon’s body, so sharp and strong that he actually arches his back in response.

“They will be back at any moment,” Simon tries to argue despite the fact that his own hips are grinding in small circles against Markus’ hipbone.

“Well, we can either make good use of this little time,” Markus says, licking his bottom lip with an expression that usually causes Simon to do whatever he wants. “Or I can hit the showers…”

Simon’s skin breaks in goosebumps. Markus knows exactly what he is doing and Simon should feel at least a little upset to be played like a fiddle. A shower means that all the sweat and grime would be washed down and wouldn’t it be a waste? Simon shakes his head in a vain attempt at clearing his thoughts.

Markus licks a long stripe up the side of Simon’s neck, a maneuver that brings his own sweaty neck closer to Simon’s face. The blond inhales deeply, the sharp scent filling his senses and making him weak on the knees. Markus always smells good, but usually he is full of deodorant and perfume; and Simon appreciates those too but nothing quite compares to the raw, pure smell of Markus’ skin.

Simon leans in, runs his nose on the sweaty curve of Markus’ neck before licking at the damp skin. The taste is bitter but not unpleasant, quite the opposite, he moans quietly as he savors it.

“How long do you think we have?” Simon asks, voice already a little rough with desire. He can’t see Markus’ victorious smile but he feels it in the air around them.

“They take about four minutes for each lap, they must run five laps,” Markus grabs a handful of Simon’s silky hair and tugs gently until Simon is face to face with him. “Make the math.” Simon moans, his hands slide under Markus’ shirt, his fingertips glide over the sheen of sweat before he grabs Markus’ waist in a vice-like grip.

They don’t have a lot of time, it is a risky wager. However, Simon knows that even if they don’t finish by the time the team returns they will certainly hear their approach. A bunch of college kids horsing around after practice is quite the noisy group after all. Markus has a knowing smirk on his lips and he looks so infuriatingly smug that Simon decides not even a martyr would be able to resist him.

Simon certainly doesn’t.

He kisses Markus again, biting and sucking on his plump bottom lip. Markus groans in response presses their bodies closer together. Simon’s nails dig into the soft skin and taut muscles of Markus’ sides, eliciting a moan.

Markus’ shirt is quickly taken off. The fabric is heavy and damp and Simon brings it up to his face and takes a deep breath. It reeks, the stale sweat growing a little sour but it still makes Simon’s pupils dilate, full of desire. He sniffs it a few more times before Markus takes it off his hand and tosses it aside.

“Why bother with the shirt when I am here right now?”

Simon grins. This is all the invitation he needs.

He flips them around and presses Markus against the wall. A breathless laugh is punched out of Markus’ chest as Simon holds his hands up and pins them above his head. The position leaves all of Markus’ chest, as well as his armpits and sides open and readily available. Simon licks his lips, looking ravenous in a way Markus rarely sees him. He buries his face in Markus’ armpit, the smell there thick and raw.

Simon moans, loud and guttural, hips grinding almost painfully against Markus’ leg. He inhales and exhales deeply, noisily, nose buried in the trimmed curls of Markus’ armpit hair. Before he thinks too much about it he sticks his tongue out, licks timidly at the skin around the thicket of hair.

“You smell so good,” Simon says, and he sounds almost lost. Markus preens under the compliment and all the attention Simon is giving him, he puffs out his chest and offers more of his body to Simon’s eager exploration.

Simon takes the offer without a second thought. He nuzzles Markus’ sweaty pits and neck, licks on his dark and damp skin as if it is mana. His exploration continues, down Markus’ chest and the grooves of his lean stomach.

“I want to suck you,” Simon half asks, half declares, and Markus shivers in response.

“Do it. Now.”

Simon drops to his knees, hands already reaching for the fastenings of Markus’ pants. The relatively simple work of undoing the laces is made difficult by Simon’s inability to stop sniffing at Markus’ crotch. When he finally gets rid of Markus’ pants Simon wastes no time.

He presses his face on the vee of Markus’ hipbone and his tongue follows that line until he was mouthing at the base of Markus’ cock. The scent of sex is already strong, precum and sweat mingling and making Simon’s head spin. He swallows the sudden influx of saliva before licking at the crease of Markus’ crotch.

The taste is sour, unclean, and it goes directly to Simon’s cock. He licks a few times, alternating the sides, until Markus grabs the back of his head and presses him against his cock. Simon groans pitifully as his face is mashed against the thick heat of Markus’ erection. With his eyes rolling back in pleasure Simon starts to lick and kiss his boyfriend’s cock.

Markus relieves some of the pressure on Simon’s head, just enough to allow him to move up and take the head of his cock in his mouth. Simon sucks on the slick head with a passion. His tongue swirls around, gathering precum and sweat, and he swallows down the mix with a pleased groan.

Simon bobs his head in perfectly paced movements. His lips form a tight seal around Markus’ cock, his throat constricts a little as the cockhead invades it. Simon tries his best not to gag, taking it slowly despite how deep he is going. His nose buries on Markus’ trimmed pubes with every deep suck.

“Fuck me, please,” Markus manages to say between harsh, panting breaths.

Simon sucks Markus’ cock one last time, feels it breaching his throat and barely controls his gag reflex before pulling away. Markus’ legs are shaking slightly, pants trapped on the middle of his thighs and Simon firmly planted between his knees. When he looks down his face is dark pink, his eyes glazed and his lips are spit slick and bitten.

Simon holds his eyes as he sucks on his own fingers, slicking them up with slurping noises and aborted moans.

Once Simon deems his fingers wet enough he returns to his previous task. He licks and sucks Markus’ cock while his fingers rub around his sweaty hole. Markus leans heavily against the wall, his chest heaves with his broken breathing. Simon works a finger in with little preamble and Markus moans, loud and low pitched, in response.

Simon presses his face on the crease between Markus’ leg and his crotch and just breathes there. The scent is growing stronger, sweat gathering because of the warmth of the room and the nature of their activities. Precum continues beading on the slit of his cock and it rolls down Markus’ erection to pool and clump on his pubic hair. Simon’s second finger burns a little as it enters but Markus is too far gone to care for a little discomfort. He looks at the clock on the opposite wall, over the door that eventually will lead the rest of the team in. They barely have ten minutes.

Markus’ heart speeds up. Objectively, he doesn’t want to be caught. It could mean his scholarship and position in the team. It could mean a world of problems for Simon too. However, the idea that they  _ might  _ get caught makes his blood boil and he grinds down on Simon’s fingers, eager for more.

“I’m good,” he says, tugging Simon up by the hair. “C’mon and take me, please.”

Simon sucks a purple bruise on the hollow of Markus’ hipbone before standing up and kissing him with renewed passion. When they part Markus promptly turns around and tilts his hips up, legs as wide apart as they can go. Simon grabs his asscheeks and pulls them apart. Markus’ ass is glistening with spit and sweat and it clenches around nothing under Simon’s stare. Markus’ hand holds one of his cheeks, his finger brushing and dipping into his hole provocatively.

Simon struggles to take his own cock out of his pants. Once it is free he spits on his hand and does his best to coat it with some slick. It is not ideal but Markus looks and tastes and smells so delicious Simon allows himself some recklessness.

He guides his cock between Markus’ asscheeks, the head circling his hole before Markus loses his patience and grinds back. Simon hisses as his cock suddenly pops into Markus’ hole.

“Careful,” he says, voice strangled.

“I am fine,” Markus replies, pressing his feverish face against the cool tiles.

Simon slides in as smoothly as he can. All things considered, they have had sex in worse conditions, and once Simon is fully in they both moan in unison.

“Fuck, feels good,” Markus says in a whisp of voice, and Simon nods vehemently in agreement.

Simon holds Markus’ hips and starts a deep grinding motion. He presses his face between Markus’ shoulder blades, the skin there is damp with sweat and splattered with bruises - the joys of being a semi-professional football player. Simon closes his eyes and focuses on the rhythm of his hips, on the small moans and shivers that he is ripping out of Markus.

They know they can’t make it last. Every second brings the team closer and neither of them wants to be forced apart before they reach completion. Simon picks up the rhythm, using his hands to maneuver Markus’ hips in search of the best angle. He knows he has found it when Markus squeaks and goosebumps break all over his damp skin.

Simon’s thrusts grow faster and harder, the slick sound of skin against skin echoes on the tiled walls, bouncing around and echoing in the closed space. Markus bites his lip, face burning bright pink, his eyebrows tilted up in a blissful expression.

Markus braces one arm against the wall and brings his other hand down between his legs. It doesn’t take much. Between Simon’s thorough sucking and the risk of getting caught, he is already so worked up he comes after just a few pumps. When he comes he bites on his own forearm otherwise, his explosive moan would surely bring unwanted attention to them.

Simon follows suit. Markus coming is such a turn on for him. The satisfaction of knowing he has pleased Markus and brought him completion makes Simon trip over the finish line. He goes as deep as possible and his hands lock on Markus’ waist, nails digging in painfully. His come fills Markus and he only pulls away after the last spurt of come lands on his insides.

Carefully Simon pulls away. Markus’ bottom is reddish as a result of Simon’s pelvis repeatedly hitting it. Simon caresses it gently and Markus purrs in response. A tiny trickle of cum slides down Markus’ leg.

“Now I really must hit the showers,” Markus says, lazily, turning around so he can embrace Simon.

“You do,” Simon agrees but doesn’t move away. They continue there, sharing sated kisses and trying to catch their breath. The atmosphere is quiet and peaceful - until it isn’t anymore.

Shouts and laughter echo on the corridor just beyond the door. Simon and Markus exchange a panicked look before jumping in opposite directions.

Markus quickly scrambles to the showers area and turns one of the shower heads on in the speed of light. Simon slinks back to the lockers, heart hammering painfully hard in his chest. He hears the team pouring into the room, raucous conversation and playful banter following them. Thankfully, they all stay in the shower area. The chatter dies a little as more water starts to run and the players focus on washing down a hard day of practice.

Simon looks around, to make sure all his belongings are with him. His eyes land on Markus’ discarded shirt, little ways over to the showers but still in the locker area. He should leave it, he knows it but he has already given in to so many temptations today that he doesn’t resist this one more. He may continue his path to sainthood another day.

He quietly retrieves the shirt, cold now but still a little damp. He stuffs it into his bag and leaves the locker room as silently as a mouse. Once he is back to the safety of the bleachers he gets his phone and snaps a picture of the shirt and sends it to Markus.

_ ‘It seems I have mistakenly taken your shirt with me’ _ , he writes below the photo.

Markus’ reply comes a few minutes later and Simon smiles and blushes a little as he reads it.

_ ‘It seems I’ll have to go get it later.’ _

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/curiumkingyo) or [Tumblr](http://burn-gormans-eyelashes.tumblr.com) and if you are feeling generous, take a look at my [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/O5O8K6GJ#) too <3


End file.
